


The Art of Love

by Darkness_Rising



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Romance, Sticky Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-23
Updated: 2013-02-23
Packaged: 2017-12-03 09:49:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/696971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darkness_Rising/pseuds/Darkness_Rising
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sunstreaker's art comes to life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Art of Love

**Author's Note:**

> **Title:** The Art of Love (Hides at the cheese of the title)  
>  **Series/Verse:** G1  
>  **Kink OP and/or prompt:** None just online conversations with other readers/writers.  
>  **Rating:** NC17/M (just to be safe)  
>  **Disclaimer:** This is a piece of fiction. No harm was intended in the creation of this work. All rights belong to the original creators.  
>  **Pairings:** Sideswipe x Sunstreaker x Ratchet  
>  **Warnings:** Fluff, ~~Mild~~ sticky
> 
> **A/N:** After all the slag and angst I keep putting these three through, I have promised fluff several times but have not delivered, so, following an online conversation over on Livejournal with Senna_Chan (LJ name) last weekend, I have finally tried to produce some fluff. So for acidgreenflames, sunnysideofblue and senna_chan, and anyone else who would like to see these three happy and relaxed for a change, I have finally attempted to be nice for a change. I can’t promise it will be any good though, and it may be a little cheesy but here goes...

Relaxed and satiated following a few pleasure fuelled rounds of interfacing, Sunstreaker sat in the partially lit room, his chair placed so that he looked across to his berth, silently watching on with dark optics as Sideswipe, still foggy with recharge, slowly shifted himself and settled over Ratchet’s frame, sliding between his legs; a warming blanket covering their lower halves while simultaneously revealing the contours of where their frames met.

The golden twin had intended to sketch Sideswipe and their lover in their recharge, to capture the hazy afterglow of their earlier love making, but when Sideswipe had felt Sunstreaker leave the berth, the crimson twin took further comfort in Ratchet’s warm frame. Then, subconsciously, in his still half recharging state, Sideswipe’s fingers had begun to caress white plating, his arousal slowly blossoming when Ratchet’s frame responded; pressing softly against the teasing fingers while gentle groans slipped from between slightly parted lips.

Now, poised with a stick of charcoal in one hand and a large canvas in the other, the base of the frame resting on his thighs whilst he angled it perfectly for his comfort when drawing, Sunstreaker watched Sideswipe’s unhurried movements with keen interest.

Ratchet moaned softly into Sideswipe’s mouth as Sideswipe kissed him out of recharge, the soft tingles that danced through the crimson mech at the delicate sounds that only he and Sunstreaker could draw from the medic, danced through Sunstreaker too as the charcoal began to decorate the canvas with tender strokes; the gentle sounds of the dark inky carbon stick, filling the near silent room and mixing with the soft sounds coming from the berth.

Sideswipe responded with his own moans of pleasure, his frame shuddering when he ground his interface panel against Ratchet’s, receiving an instantaneous response, his lover’s panel willingly sliding away, Sideswipe’s own panel reacting only a fraction slower. With Ratchet still so wet, so slick from their earlier encounters, Sideswipe’s spike slid home easily before callipers clamped down firmly; momentarily holding the front liner in place as sensors flared into life.

Optics, still dim with recharge, bore into Sideswipe’s as the younger mech gazed down at his lover from his slightly elevated position, his crimson chest no longer resting on Ratchet’s chest as he supported himself on his elbows and forearms, allowing Sideswipe to watch the pleasure that lit the medic’s face as they connected. Ratchet’s optics brightened as deeper set nodes were tormented by the tip of Sideswipe’s spike when he seated himself deeply within the wanting frame.

Sunstreaker’s systems stuttered for a klik, in time with Sideswipe’s as the same pleasure his twin felt slipped through the wide open bond, teasing the watching twin, almost enticing him to the berth. But the golden twin regained control of himself, his hand picking back up its rhythm of easy strokes as he almost caressed the canvas. The strokes of charcoal against the finely textured skin started out languid, relaxed but as Sideswipe started moving gently within their lover, the pressure at which the charcoal was controlled with became firmer, lines becoming thicker, bolder whilst an image began to form on the page. All the while, the artist’s optics, dark with his own growing arousal, flitted between his subject and the burgeoning image before him.

Ratchet’s optics dimmed again as his processor became foggy with his building charge, his vents becoming deeper, shaky, his moans slipping out with each ex-vent, encouraging Sideswipe. Loosening his grip from the berth pad below him, one of Ratchet’s servos slid to a slender waist, finger tips dragging lazily over the plating while his other servo made its way up Sideswipe’s back, encouraging the front liner to lower his frame until their lips met in a soft kiss.

Each one of Sideswipe’s slow downward thrusts ended with a unhurried rotating grind before he withdrew again, sending pleasure zinging through Ratchet, through his own frame and through the twin bond.

Again Sunstreaker’s frame responded, his spike, pressurised since the first stirrings of Sideswipe’s arousal but locked in its housing, ached as it pressed hard against his own panel, distracting him from his work. Optics slid from the image he created to the scene in front of him, resting there for longer than necessary, drinking in the sensuality, before they finally dropped back down to the canvas, his fingertips gently blending the heavy lines, creating light and dark, sensuality and love.

Pulling out of their kiss, Sideswipe pushed away from Ratchet’s frame again, back struts stretching and curving as he pushed his shoulders up and his hips down, sliding just that little bit deeper inside his lover. With each downward roll his hips made, Ratchet rose to meet him, the soft sounds of their frames sliding against each other, mingling with their gentle groans; the sounds harmonic to Sunstreaker’s audials.

There was no urgency, no frenzied desire to wildly chase down their pleasure, instead, their movements were a slow cadence, lazy and sensuous; Sunstreaker’s movements against the canvas mirrored the languid show in front of him as he captured the essence of the scene. What was not visible to the optic, Sunstreaker subtly brought to life; the energy which swirled around Sideswipe and Ratchet, the glow of the love they shared.

Sunstreaker felt the stirrings of Sideswipe’s approaching overload before Sideswipe increased his rhythm, his hips rolling just that little bit harder, just that little more urgently, his groans becoming deeper as his venting became faster. Below him Ratchet’s frame responded in kind, his valve clamping tighter with each thrust, his groans rivalling Sideswipe’s. At the same time, Sunstreaker’s strokes against the canvas became more urgent, his pent up arousal seeking its own outlet as he was assaulted by the visual stimulation as well as his twins’ pleasure through their bond.

In the aftermath of their earlier proclivities, climax came quickly, but no less strongly, Sideswipe’s frame stiffening as his held his vents, his lips moving wordlessly, optics locked on to his lover below him as pleasure flooded his frame, his hips pinning Ratchet to the berth as his overload claimed control. Almost instantaneously, Ratchet became rigid beneath him, hoarsely crying out his pleasure as servos gripped tightly at Sideswipe’s now shuddering frame. Across the room, Sunstreaker’s servo stiffened, gripping his charcoal tightly as Sideswipe’s pleasure bloomed through the twin bond but staving off his own overload, Sunstreaker reclaimed control long enough to finish the piece he worked on, digits moving deftly over the image as the last rough lines were smoothed out; the sated pleasure he had created, reaching out at him from the canvas.

While Sideswipe finally relaxed, draping himself over Ratchet’s frame, seeking his lips as he came down from his high, Sunstreaker cast his dark optics over his work for a last time. “Beautiful.” He murmured as his optics slid back up the canvas and to the berth once more. With his systems running hot, Sunstreaker watched Sideswipe and Ratchet for a few more kliks, their movements lazy once more, and finally rising from his seat the artist rested the finished piece against a wall before moving back to the berth, sliding alongside the two warm frames already there.

Knowing his twin needed his own release, Sideswipe gently manoeuvred himself off Ratchet’s frame, Ratchet keening as Sideswipe broke their kiss to lie beside him. Golden fingers, still stained with the remnants of charcoal dust, glided over Ratchet’s cheek, leaving an inky dusty trail behind as though he were a fresh canvas, and gently, Sunstreaker encouraged Ratchet into a kiss, the golden twin’s frame pressing needy against the older mech while hungry lips told their lover what he sought.

A/N: Short, and I hope not too cheesy ^^


End file.
